It's magic!
by The French Padfoot
Summary: A mother always know how to make her child dream... *chapter 2, complete*
1. illusion's beauty

Mrs Thomas was terrified. She had been terrified for years. This evening, as every other evening, she went through the house once, twice, and even a third time to make sure all the doors and windows were firmly closed. All the while knowing it wouldn't stop "them". "They" would always manage to pass through.

Her husband had disappeared a long time ago. She didn't even know whether he was alive or not. He was a wizard. Of that, at least, she was sure. Almost. It seemed so far away in her memories she often wondered she had not dreamt the few years they had lived together. But no, Dean was there as a proof it wasn't a dream.

And she had seen him do things… magical things. The problem was… in his world, wizards were fighting. They were at war against such an abomination that even Mr. Thomas, a brave man, didn't dare to utter its name.

The evening he left… she didn't understand all that was happening, but she knew he was involved in this war. She had no other acquaintance in his world. Nobody to whom ask for news, nowhere to look for him… it was as if the wizarding world didn't exist for her anymore. For all she knew, the war was still raging.

Once she was sure the house was closed, she came up the stairs and glanced in Dean's room.

The five-years-old boy was quietly lying in his bed, but his eyes were widely opened in the dark. Mrs Thomas came in the room and sat beside him on the bed.

"Don't you sleep, darling?"

"Can't!"

The young woman smiled at the sight of Dean, hugging his stuffed bunny and pouting determinedly.

"Read me a story!" he demanded.

"I've already read one, love, you'll have another tomorrow evening."

"Pleaaaase!!!"

Mrs Thomas was seldom able to be insensible to her son's pleading. But she wasn't about to take out the story book again, not tonight. Instead, she get a coin out of her pocket and grinned at the boy's puzzled expression.

"Look at the coin, Dean, look at it closely, ok? It's in my hand, you see? But if I close my hand and say a spell… _Desaparecio!_ I open my hand and… it's gone!"

"Oh! How d'you do it?"

She fought not to laugh at the child's stupefaction. It was a trick her father had taught her, and that she had ornamented with a spell heard from her husband.

"It's magic!"

"But… but… where is it? The coin?"

"Ah! That's a good question. The coin goes where it wants to. But I've an idea where it is now."

She reached behind his nape to "retrieve" the coin. Flabbergasted, Dean rubbed his neck, looking at the coin, then turned to investigate his pillow. She burst out laughing.

"Do it again, Mom! Again, please!!!"

"No. I'll do it again tomorrow if you go to sleep and be good tonight."

At once, he grabbed his bunny, tucked the blanket under his chin and shut his eyes tightly.

"Sleeping."

She laughed again, turned off the bedside lamp, and got up to leave.

"Mom?"

She turned, her hand already upon the door's handle.

"You're magic, Mom!"

And then he was sleeping with that deep sleep which secret only known by the little children.

"I'm not", she murmured dreamily. "But you certainly are."

She left his room and closed the door, wondering, as often these days, whether she would ever be brave enough to tell him about his father.


	2. unknown's beauty

Narcissa sighed heavily watching her son's stubborn expression. Draco was sitting straight in his bed, sheets thrown away, arms crossed over his small chest, and the chin high up in the air, the haughty looks misplaced on a five-years-old boy's face.

It was nine in the evening, and every little boy, at this time, should be sleeping, even a Malfoy.

But Draco remained obstinate. He didn't want his mother to tuck him in, and he didn't even want her to take him in her arms and rock him to sleep. 

"Don't you want me to read a story, darling?"

"No! Don't wanna sleep!"

In desperation, she drew out her wand and began to create bright forms in the air: a wand, a broom, a castle…

"Oh, look, love!"

Draco glanced at it, seemingly interested at first, then quickly indifferent, and even disdainful.

"Not even nice!"

He waved his hand irritably through the fictitious forms, and they dispersed in the air like twinkling smoke wreath. Narcissa sighed again. Lucius had been making a vicious and spoiled brat out of her child.

But she still had a string to her bow. A souvenir from a childhood's friend, whose parents were Muggles. She got out of the room swiftly, came back almost immediately with the thing, and put it down before the young mister Malfoy. Even with all his affected airs, the boy couldn't resist to take a good look and ask about it.

"What's that?"

To be truthful, Narcissa herself didn't really know. It seemed one of those things Muggle used to have light, wrapped in a cube with strange patterns. And, of course, with a string – a plug – sticking out at one end. Narcissa put a spell on the plug, and the machine began to spread a soft light, turning slowly and casting the patterns on the walls. There was also music, from a little song Narcissa vaguely remembered from her childhood. Draco was transfixed in the sight of the night light, experimentally touching it.

"This is not magic?" he finally asked without looking away from the lamp.

"No. It's electric."

"Eletic?"

"Electric."

"E-lec-tric. Electric. It's beautiful."

Narcissa smiled. She gently took the night light from her boy's hands and put it on the bedside table without turning it out. Draco was now watching the patterns moving on the walls, and didn't protest when his mother made him lie down and drew the sheets back on him. He already couldn't keep his eyes open. He murmured a few words before falling asleep, though.

"Mom? You're beautiful as Electric."

She finished tucking him in and left quietly. Of course, the night light wouldn't last long. Lucius would never forgive her for that, and when Draco would learn that it came from Muggles…

But if it would make Draco to always look at her like he just did, she would face Lucius through hell and beyond.


End file.
